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Cold Heart (standard:other, 1525 words)
Author: Jordan LockeAdded: Nov 09 2000Views/Reads: 2816/1802Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A man that has lost faith in the world and himself is visited by strange beings

Cold  Heart 

As the days and nights went by James' faith dwindled, he hadn't much
faith in the beginning.  Now it was even less.  He kept wondering, 
totally puzzled and confused how he could have such bad luck.  Even in 
the laws of probability he should have had some good luck by now.  
Maybe it was fate, maybe it was the forces of the universe.  James 
didn't know, and now he really didn't care either.  The world had 
always been cruel to him as far back as he could remember. 

James sat now staring out the small hole he had cleared in the frost
covered window.  The earth had a soft white blanket of snow covering 
it, the snow created an alien looking landscape with the hills and 
valleys the drifts created.  James took another sip of his drink, as he 
stared off into the cold darkness outside his widow.  Somehow the cold 
and snow, the howling wind he could hear every once in awhile seemed 
almost comforting.  Like it was singing to him almost.  It seemed 
strange but he wrote it off as to much whiskey.  All of a sudden the 
phone rang, startling him back to reality.  He set his drink down and 
moved to the loveseat across the room where the phone was.  He picked 
it up and said hello.  There was a pause then a voice answered him. 
"Hello, how are you doing" the woman said in a quiet tone.  James 
paused and waited for a moment before answering 

"I am fine, and what can I do for you" he replied, he tried to sound
casual, but he knew he had a bitter tone in his voice. 

"I just wanted to see how you were after last night" James listened and
thought to himself who was she trying to kid. 

"I am fine really, no problems.  Actually you caught me at a bad time, I
was just ready to go out. So can we talk another time" James said, he 
really wanted to end this conversation now.  He knew she didn't believe 
that he was going out, but he didn't care.  Just as long as he didn't 
have to talk to her right now. 

"Well OK, I will call you tomorrow, OK" she replied 

"That would be great,...bye" he said as he started to hang up the phone
before she even said goodbye.  He walked back over to his chair by the 
window and sat back down again.  Why would she even call.  After the 
bullshit she pulled on him.  She had some nerve he thought to himself.  
All of a sudden something caught James' eye.  Something he hadn't 
noticed before, footprints.  He was sure there were no footprints 
before, especially way out here.  Maybe an animal or something, but he 
was by himself and it was miserable out.  Strange, again maybe it was 
the whiskey and he hadn't noticed them before.  Time for another drink 
James thought.  He got up and went to the kitchen, he grabbed the 
bottle of Jack Daniels and poured himself another half a glass.  He 
walked back sipping on his drink.  When he got to the window he almost 
choked on the whiskey as it went down.  Tracks, tracks all over.  At 
least 5 sets, going in all directions.  Now he knew it wasn't him being 
just inattentive.  Those tracks were new, and made from the time he got 
up till now which had been less than 3 minutes.  James felt uneasy now, 
he went to the front door and peered out the window, more tracks.  
James put his drink down and ran around looking out every window.  In 
every window he saw the same thing.  Tracks in the snow, what seemed to 
be impossible is every time he looked there seemed to be more and more. 
Yet he  saw no one out there that could have made the tracks. 

James quickly closed the curtains and stood in the living room, trying
not to look toward the windows.  He began to feel his heart pounding in 
his ears, as he stood there his mind racing, trying to figure out what 
or who was 15 miles from town and wandering around in the cold and 
dark.  He felt a chill run down his spine sending shivers to his limbs 
as he heard the wind again, this time he was sure he heard his name 
being called faintly in the wind as it howled outside.  That was his 
imagination, he was sure of that.  His mind was playing tricks on him 
because he was a little spooked about the tracks outside.  He looked at 
the window again, it was like an invisible force that pulled him to the 
window, he had to look.  He pulled open the curtain not sure of what he 
expected to see.  The tracks were all over now, and close to the house. 
 He could see the trees faintly in the distance and the road leading 
out to the highway, but other than that there was nothing he could see 
that would have made all those tracks. He again pulled the curtain 

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